


icarus would have just as soon drowned

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: Love and Other Fairytales [19]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Fantasy Politics, Fear of Death, Immortality, Immortality Angst, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Politics, bella was suposed to be a random one-off fae, but everybody seemed to like her, but youre gonna, selective mutism, so she's back, trick question - you definitely dont, who wants to meet Night-Roman?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 14:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Roman, Roman, green of eye,Kissed the boys and made them cry.





	icarus would have just as soon drowned

**Author's Note:**

> the flower mentioned in this section is Silene Dioica, or Red Campion. The title is from The Heartbreaker Poem by Bianca Phipps

Patton had gone worryingly quiet, and remained so for the remainder of the journey to Roman’s house.

Virgil continued to carry him, and Logan merely trailed behind the three of them, trying not to fret or otherwise look ridiculous. Multiple times he caught himself just barely biting his hands and eventually he stuck them into his pockets to keep himself from continuing.

Roman, who’s driving normally made Logan want to flee the vehicle in defense of his own life, had been cautious and restrained. The car barely lurched when they came to a stop in his driveway.

When they entered the house, Dizzy came to greet them. Roman began speaking with her in low tones, though what they could possibly be discussing Logan had no idea. He was still not quite sure what the “familiar” situation actually entailed. Dizzy obviously must be smarter than a regular cat, but to what extent Logan had no idea.

Whatever they discussed, it seemed they came to some sort of agreement. Roman opened the front door and Dizzy exited. Logan opened his mouth to protest.

“She promises not to eat any native songbirds, Specs,” said Roman dryly.

Logan closed his mouth.

Virgil sat on the couch, and as soon as they were still Patton started to wiggle out of his grip. Virgil let him go, even though he looked as if he would rather do just about anything else.

“You okay?” Roman asked Patton.

Patton opened his mouth, but remained silent for several moments. He closed it again, squeezing his eyes shut and shrugging helplessly.

Roman hummed, gentling him, and Patton responded with a brittle and painfully false smile.

“Don’t do that,” said Roman quietly. Patton merely shrugged again, looking firmly at the coffee table.

Roman sighed and took his hand. He sat on the coffee table across from him, and then he waved Logan over, patting the area next to him. Logan was not confident in the structural integrity of the coffee table, but roman seemed unperturbed and it was his house. Logan sat.

“Okay,” said roman perfunctorily. “Grave didn’t work. The king doesn’t know you’re awake, or at least he didn’t a few hours ago. When the m- when  _Greta_  touches people they fall asleep, even if they’ve been charmed against her powers, and none of them have woken up. Patton’s got her mostly lucid but it’s probably not permanent,”

He paused, looking thoughtful.

“I think i got everything?” he said.

Virgil shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, voice flat, “The forest is sick,”

“Sick in what way?” asked Logan.

Virgil squinted, considering.

“I’m not- I don’t now if I can explain it,”

“Give it a shot,” encouraged Roman.

“My mother has a-” Logan startled as the switch in titles, but recovered quickly, -a sort of pulse. Breath, inhale and exhale, wax and wane. She’s…“ he made a frustrated noise.

"Perhaps it is not necessary to give us the exact details,” reasoned Logan, “Seeing as we are unlikely to have a solution, being entirely unfamiliar with your… mother,”

Virgil didn’t look pleased, but he did nod.

“Fair enough,” he said, “But I’m tied to the forest. My powers are pretty well useless at the moment. I’m not going to be able to fight my brother by himself, let alone the whole court, even if Logan can compensate,”

Logan scoffed before he could stop himself.

“Any ‘compensation’ I attempt will likely only make the situation worse,” he said.

Virgil looked confused.

“Why?” he said baffled.

Logan shifted a little self consciously. He did not think it likely that Virgil would agree with the rather… mocking descriptions of him that the other fae of the Serpent King’s court used, based solely on the past 12 hours of data. And yet he found himself reluctant to share them all the same.

Roman still had one hand holding Patton’s, and he took his other and placed it on Logan’s knee, running his thumb in reassuring circles.

“My magic is rather embarrassingly weak,” he said quickly, “I would be most likely entirely useless in any hostile situation.

Virgil’s face grew even more confused.

Logan continued, the words spilling over.

”'Barely winter’, the other fae call me,“ he blurted, "It is – they think me a bit of joke, actually,”

Virgil’s face flashed with rage for a scant moment, but then smoothed into consideration.

“…Come here,” he said cautiously, standing and reaching for one of Logan’s hands. Logan had stood with him before he’d really considered it, and then Virgil was pulling him out the door.

“We’ll be right back,” called Virgil over his shoulder, “Don’t go anywhere,”

Logan’s confusion continued to rise as Virgil pulled him gently but firmly down the porch steps. Virgil was muttering something Logan couldn’t understand, scanning the ground in concentric circles around them.

“-no clue how to do this,” Logan caught, but before he could ask Virgil shrugged and pulled them both down to sit in the grass.

“Alright,” he said, “Uhm-”

Logan’s face was steadily warming, seeing as Virgil had not let go of his hand. Virgil set both of their linked fingers on the ground between them and hummed deliberating.

“What’s your favorite thing about Patton?” he asked.

Logan startled at the non-sequitur.

“I- I don’t know,”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“I doubt that,”

“I could not possibly  _choose_  a favorite, the question is absurd,” said Logan, a little curt.

Virgil snorted.

“Alright, actually, that’s fair,” agreed Virgil, “I  _really_  do not know how to do this,”

“What, exactly, are we  _doing_?” said Logan incredulously.

“Tell me about the worst time your powers got out of control,” said Virgil, and Logan was beginning to feel like he was going to get whiplash from the way Virgil was bouncing around conversation topics.

“I do not wish to discuss it,” he said tightly.

Virgil squeezed his hand.

“It’s just me, L,” he said softly. Logan should probably embarrassed that it was  _that_  easy to make him cave, but mastery over his emotions was an ideal that had remained frustratingly out of his reach.

“Roman fell out of a tree,” he said, his voice dispassionate, “He hit his head on a stone and lost consciousness,”

“I found the event distressing. My home was nearly impassable for my family for almost a week,” he said, “They woke with their hair in knots nightly, and my mother simply stopped purchasing dairy products because they went bad the moment she brought them through the door. Any door produced some kind of animal on the other side upon people shut. Toads, chipmunks, a variety of insects and birds, and at one point a very distressed and incredibly hostile fox,”

“What the fuck, L,” said Virgil with a slightly astonished laugh.

Logan flinched and Virgil reared back a tad. His amusement gave way to concern.

“I do not take reminders of my loved ones mortality very well in general,” he said flatly, “Most of the other more extreme displays of magic occurred around similar events,”

Logan kept his eyes firmly on the dirt between them.

“…Yeah,” said Virgil, his voice cracking, “I think I get that,”

Logan turned the statement over in his mind, and then realized with sudden clarity that he may have unintentionally been, to quote Roman, a total asshole.

Seeing as Virgil had already experienced what Logan merely feared.

“I’m not gonna tell you it gets easier,” said Virgil quietly, “Because it really,  _really_  doesn’t. I’m not even gonna tell you it’s not gonna hurt because it’s pretty much the worst feeling ever,”

“How do you stand it?” said Logan, almost pleading, “How can you- some days I can barely stand to touch them. It’s all I can think about,”

“And when they’re gone you’ll think about every moment you did that and want to punch yourself in the teeth,” said Virgil a little dryly.

Mortified, Logan realized that he might actually be about to cry. His hand was more clinging to Virgil’s now than anything.

“Greta’s going to have to leave,” said Virgil, “She’s sick and in pain. I’m going to have to say goodbye and it’s going to be miserable,”

He grit his teeth just a tad.

“And I  _don’t_ get to say goodbye to Trudi,” he said, “There’s nothing left to say goodbye to,”

“He will take  _nothing else_ ,” said Virgil fiercely. “Not from me, and not from you. We can’t keep them forever, but we don’t have to give up a single second,”

“And-” Virgil shifted a little. He went from fierce to slightly nervous. Logan looked up from the ground a realized Virgil’s pale face had gone a little pink around the edges. “There’s me. Us. Y’know- now,” he squeezed Logan’s hand.

He smiled, a lopsided smirk with a nervous air of forced-casualty.

“It won’t make up for everything we’re going to lose,” he said, “But you’ve got me. That’s something?”

The instinct to kiss Virgil that had been mitigated by the distance between them in Logan’s house returned. Seeing as, this time, there was hardly any space between them at all, Logan felt he could not really be blamed for his total inability to resist it.

Kissing Roman had been quick and nervous but incredibly warm, Patton soft and insistent. Kissing Virgil was like pressing his mouth to an electric socket.

Either Virgil, even being “weakened,” was still the most magically powerful being Logan had ever been in proximity to, or else Logan was simply  _that_  far gone on him, because Logan was practically shivering with adrenaline. Virgil’s mouth opened and Logan made a frankly embarrassing noise.

Logan shifted to bring his hands up to Virgil’s face, and then realized with a sort of hazy confusion that he could not move his right hand very much at all. It felt – tied down?

He pulled away and Virgil blinked, looking a little thrown. Logan looked down at the dirt and startled.

The space where their hands sat was totally obscured by a mass of flowers Logan didn’t actually recognize. They were purple and had five notched petals. Logan began fruitlessly trying to retrieve his hand from the tangle.

“What flower is that?” he muttered.

Virgil began helping him untangle their hands.

“You’re the Seelie. You tell me,”

Logan froze.

“I- what?”

Virgil looked distinctly smug.

“L, really?” he said, fond and distinctly amused, “What  _W_ _inter_ , ‘barely’ or not, makes  _flowers grow?_ ”

Logan, wrong-footed and utterly confused, looked down at their hands, scrutinizing.

“And if you think  _weak_  fae can spontaneously produce living animals from thin air on  _accident,_  I’m really curious to see what exactly you think  _I_  can do. You’re ‘barely Winter’ because you’re  _not_  a Winter, you’re a  _Spring_ ,”

“That- but they said-”

“Yeah, about that,” said Virgil, and his smug grin turned just a little nasty, “I’m pretty sure I know what’s wrong with the forest,”

* * *

“Out of balance?” Roman repeated. Virgil and Logan had returned to the house, both of them suspiciously flushed but Virgil’s eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Way out of balance,” said Virgil, “My brother’s always had a pretty open disdain for Seelie; I’m not surprised he treats the Spring and Summer courts like shit,”

“I failed to mention the second-class status of Seelie to any of you because I assumed it was the norm,” said Logan, “It did not occur to me that it could be unnatural. And I misunderstood the insults directed at me, and therfore did not realize i was one of them,”

“My brother probably hasn’t even noticed the forest is sick,” said Virgil, “I was never sure if he was tied to it the way I was, but now I’m pretty damn sure he’s not. Even he’s not this short-sighted,”

“So the solution is obvious,” said Roman, almost relieved.

Logan cocked his head.

“It is?” he said, confused.

Roman glanced between all of them, Patton and Logan baffled and Virgil with one dubious eyebrow raised.

“… It isn’t?” he said hesitantly.

“What exactly is this simple solution of yours?” said Virgil.

“I said obvious, not simple,” said Roman, worrying his lip. “And it seems like we have a pretty standard set-up for a coup,”

Virgil hummed considerately.

“You want to get the Spring and Summer courts on our side,” he said, “Overthrow him with force rather than subterfuge,”

“It sounds so indelicate when you put it like that,” said Roman, and tried to ignore the way discussing intrigue tactics felt a little too familiar.

He eyed his jacket hanging by the door. He hadn’t worn it to the revel, or at all tonight, despite the fact that it was March and still biting cold in the dark. He hadn’t wanted to feel the lead weight of the walnut shell warning in his pocket.

He blinked.

“That must be who sent it!” he exclaimed, leaping up from the coffee table and launching across the room towards the jacket. He dug in the pocket for the shell.

“What?” said Patton quietly, and Roman took a moment to breathe a little easier that Patton had at least said something. He’d been completely silent since they left Fletcher.

"On Sunday,” said Roman, “This was in my jacket pocket – a warning. I didn’t know about the deal with the Serpent King yet, so I thought it was a threat, but someone was trying to  _warn_  me. It must be a Seelie. Though  _what_  exactly they thought  _I_  was going to do I have no idea,”

Virgil thumbed the walnut apart, eyeing the tiny note inside.

“Alright,” he said, “The question is how do we find this Seelie? They didn’t exactly sign their name,”

“I-” Roman fumbled. “Well, I guess I don’t know,”

“Did they leave any other clues?” asked Virgil.

“Yes!” said Roman, snapping his fingers, “A message in a book of fairytales, let me go get-”

Something clattered against the front room window and all four of them jumped. Virgil moved in between them, but then came a repetitive, irritated tapping noise.

“It’s Jax,” said Roman, trotting over to the window and sliding it up.

Jax’s startling black eyes darted around the room.

“Where is May?” he said, “The truck is here,”

“We took the truck, she’s still at Logan’s house,” said Roman. He paused, wary. “Jax you look nervous as a long-tailed cat,”

“You’d better start looking real damn nervous yourself,” said Jax, “There’s a hunt coming. The Serpent King knows Virgil is awake,”

“ _Fuck_ ,” muttered Roman.

“What, what is it?” said Virgil. Roman had forgotten the other’s couldn’t hear Jax.

“We’ve got incoming,” said Roman, “The king found out you’re awake somehow and he’s sending a hunt after us,”

Patton paled, and Logan looked a little ill.

“How long?” asked Roman.

“Fifteen minutes on the outside,” said Jax, “They won’t be able to get past the iron fence, but there’s a whole host of ways they could make you pretty miserable from that distance,”

“And anything we throw had them has potential to blow back at Virgil and Logan,” muttered Roman.

“I’m going to May,” said Jax, “Where is Desdemona?”

“She said she needed to get something,” said Roman, “She wouldn’t tell me what,”

Jax’s head tilted considering.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, “Trust your judgment. And if you can’t do that, trust theirs,”

His huge wings beat once and then he was soaring off into the night.

“Cryptic pigeon,” muttered Roman.

“Maybe-” started Patton hesitantly, and Roman turned away from the window to face the room once more. “Maybe we could just talk to them? Some of them must be Seelie, right?”

Logan shook his head.

“A few, but the vast majority of the knights are Unseelie.  Even if we convinced every Seelie present to rebel we would still be vastly outnumbered,”

_Knights_. Roman thought. A very stupid plan was starting to form in his mind.

_Trust your judgment._

“Is there any chance any Unseelie would be on our side?” said Patton.

Logan looked dubious.

“I doubt it,” he said, “I’ve seen no signs of discontent among them. But-” Logan shrugged helplessly, “It is not as if they speak to me other than making disparaging remarks. I have no  _Seelie_  friends among the court, let alone Unseelie. I do not know them,”

“And I know them but my information is about a century out of date,” said Virgil dryly.

“We-” Roman blurted before he could stop himself. The other turned to look at him, waiting.

“We do-” he wrung his hands, “We do have… someone. Who knows the Unseelie. And is friends with them,”

There was a pause where everyone stared, uncomprehending, until Logan’s eyes went wide.

“You want to go to  _sleep_?” he said incredulously.

“Night-Roman was buddy-buddy with all the knights in the memory I saw,” he said, trying to sound reasonable even though his knees were shaking, “If any one of us has a chance of convincing them, it’s him,”

“Slight flaw in the plan,” said Virgil flatly, “ _Y_ _ou_  don’t even know who’s side your night-self is on, let alone the rest of us,”

Roman winced.

“I considered that,” he said, “The problem is I can’t actually think of a better plan. Can you?”

They watched each other, Virgil deliberating.

Patton stood up.

“I think we should,” he said.

He turned a soft, slightly hesitant smile on Roman.

“I trust you, day or night. There’s no way any Roman would hurt us,”

“And if he tries,” said Roman, opting for levity, “Virgil’s got all those knives anyway,”

Nobody else seemed to find the joke funny.

“I’m not going to fight you Roman,” said Virgil.

“Uh, no,” said Roman, “If I attack you, or try to sell you out to the king, you absolutely  _will_  stop me. And you’re agreeing to that or this plan goes out the window,”

Virgil scowled.

“I can’t hurt you,” pleaded Roman, “Please,”

After a tense moment of silence, Virgil nodded.

They all shuffled around quickly, Roman sitting tense and jittery on the couch. Patton took his hand, and Virgil stood over them. Logan sat beside him.

“Are you ready?” he said.

“As I’ll ever be,” said Roman.

Logan’s fingers brushed Roman’s face, and Roman’s head filled with the sing-song lullaby, and that was the last thing he remembered before the world went black.

* * *

For a moment, Roman was completely still. Patton wondered if maybe it hadn’t worked.

And then his eyes opened, no blinking. He stared at the ceiling, looking slightly puzzled.

He glanced around the three of them. Patton couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.

“Let go of me,” he said. He didn’t sound angry, but his voice definitely wasn’t super polite either. Patton pulled his hand back and clutched them both in his lap.

Roman stood, walking passed them without glancing back. He entered the kitchen.

Patton looked helplessly at Logan and Virgil, both of the wary and suspicious.

Virgil went to the kitchen, and Logan and Patton followed. Roman was still ignoring them. It looked like he was making sweet tea.

“Roman?” said Virgil.

“Sir Roman,” came the clipped reply. Virgil bristled.

“ _Roman_ ,” he repeated. “do you know why we put you to sleep?”

“Day-Roman’s memories are rather fuzzy for me, but I can get the gist,” Roman replied. He turned, leveling an unimpressed look at all three of them.

“You want me to betray my king,” he said. “Bold. Audacious, even. Definitely stupid, but I can respect the tenacity,”

Patton felt like his stomach was full of lead.

“Virgil is the rightful-” Logan started, but Roman cut him off.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, “I didn’t swear allegiance to ‘the’ king – just mine. Funny how that works,”

The coffee pot was nearly finished with the tea. Roman reached up into a cabinet and pulled down the sugar.

“Although I will thank you for putting him to sleep,  _finally_ ,” said Roman, “I haven’t been out in days, he’s been too anxious to sleep. I was starting to feel a bit cooped up,”

The coffee pot of tea and the outrageous amount of sugar both went into the pitcher. He pulled out a wooden spoon from a drawer and began to stir it.

“So…,” said Patton hesitantly. “Will you help us?”

Roman gave a short, humorless laugh. When he turned this time, he leveled a nasty smile in Patton’s direction.

“If I say no, will you tell me to do it anyway, Goldilocks?”

Patton reared back. Roman could have slapped him and Patton wouldn’t have been as horrified.

“ _Take it back_ ,” said Logan viciously, throwing himself between Patton and Roman.

“Or what, Snowmelt? Gonna make some flowers bloom?”

Logan was shaking, absolutely furious.

“This is not Roman,” he said firmly, “It is pointless to continue trying to speak to him,”

“Why am I not Roman, Specs?” and roman’s favorite nickname for Logan came out sounding more like an insult, “Because he loves you? Because you’re all  _so_  in love?”

“Yes!” said Patton vehemently, his voice cracking.

“And why do I exist in the first place?” said Roman, “Love, love, love. Everyone’s favorite fairytale,”

“You’re being a  _jerk_ ,” said Patton.

Roman laughed again, this time far more genuine but just as unpleasant.

“Oh, wow,” he said, “Missed that for sure, getting lectured about manners,”

He pulled a tray of ice out of the freezer and dumped it into the pitcher. He offered the pitcher to Patton.

“You’re a guest, do you want tea?” he said conversationally, like he didn’t keep verbally tearing Patton’s heart to confetti, “Since you’re so concerned with my manners,”

“Oh,  _fuck you_ ,” said Patton before he could stop himself. Roman jumped, taking a startled step back. He looked almost normal for a second, like  _Patton’s_  Roman, before his face smoothed back into cold, heartless amusement.

“Think I struck a nerve,” he said. “You could have just said you didn’t want tea,”

“Enough,” snarled Virgil, “You’ve had your fun. This isn’t a game. Either help us or shut the fuck up,”

Roman shrugged.

“Well, let’s just say I certainly hope you’re good at bluffing,” he said, “Otherwise this is going to get unpleasantly messy. Hunt’ll be here any second now,”

He took his tea past them, waving over his shoulder.

“I’ll be on the porch,” he said conversationally, “Good luck, godspeed, et cetera. I don’t actually want to clean up blood and viscera from my lawn, you know, no matter how pretty your corpses would be,”

And with that he walked out the front door.

Patton lasted about three seconds before he started sobbing.

“He is not Roman,” said Logan vehemently, “He would never say any of those things. It is merely a copy,”

Patton wanted to believe Logan – did believe him, mostly – but it was a small comfort. He had Roman’s face. His voice. He called Patton “Goldilocks” and offered him tea. A mockery of Roman. A caricature that felt like it was designed specifically to make Patton feel like  _garbage_.

“He  _isn’t_  Roman,” said Logan. It was only the knowledge that Logan wouldn’t be able to say it unless he was absolutely sure that made Patton able to compose himself.

“What are we gonna  _do?_ ” said Patton, helpless.

“You heard him,” said Virgil bracingly, “We’re bluffing,”

“I do not believe it was an earnest suggestion,” said Logan dryly, “Seeing as two out of three of us are  _incapable of lying_ ,”

“Lying, yeah, bluffing, no,” said Virgil, “And I don’t care if he wasn’t being serious. I’m not at full strength but I can probably make it look like I am. The benefits of being terror given form, y’know,”

“And if they call the bluff?”

“This house isn’t exactly equipped for a siege, so we’re running out of options,” said Virgil.

“And the false Roman?” said Logan, “He will know it’s a deception. He will almost certainly give us away,”

Virgil shifted, hesitant.

“We had an agreement,” he said quietly.

“No!” said Patton, “You can’t, you can’t hurt him!”

“Easy,  _easy,_  Pat,” said Virgil, “We can just knock him out. I’m not all brute force, y’know. I promised I’d stop him but I don’t have to  _hurt_ him, _”_

Patton could feel his chin wobbling, but he nodded miserably.

“Okay,” he said, small and unhappy.

Logan and Virgil both suddenly stood up very straight, looking towards the door

“What?” said Patton nervously.

“Horses,” said Virgil, “They’re here,”

“Night-Roman’s already outside,” said Patton, But Logan and Virgil were ahead of him apparently, already moving out the front door before the words were out of his mouth.

Patton had never  _wanted_  to use his curse. Not deliberately. It made his inside feel hot and twisty and uncomfortable. The way people twitched, the way their eyes glazed over- all of it was downright gross.

But right now, walking out Roman’s front door, and seeing dozens upon  _dozens_  of fae on horseback, standing just on the other side of the iron fence, Patton wished desperately that he could just  _tell_  all of them to  _go away_.

He avoided eye contact with Roman, who was sitting in the rocking chair with one leg crossed over the other. His aura of boredom was nearly palpable.

As soon as Virgil stepped out of the front door, the hoard of fae began muttering. Some of them looked outright stunned, all of them at least a little wary. Patton wondered what exactly the Serpent King had told them – they certainly didn’t look like they were expecting Virgil.

Virgil glanced to the side at Night-Roman, who looked for all the world like he wasn’t even paying attention.

Virgil ignored him in kind – maybe not a good plan, but Patton couldn’t really bring himself to protest – and stepped down off the porch.

The air got thick, and goosebumps raised on Patton’s arms. Logan stepped sideways, closer to Patton, shivering. Patton was torn between some base, animal instinct to run as far away from Virgil as possible and the longing to press himself against Virgil’s back and beg him to protect them.

Before he could reconsider, he grabbed Logan and followed Virgil down the steps, toward the fae.  _This_  was definitely not a good plan – it wasn’t like they could help much. Logan might not be as weak as he’d been led to believe, but Patton had seen him do magic on  _purpose_  exactly once. Patton’s curse didn’t work on fae.

But the idea of letting Virgil face the hunt alone only made his insides writhe with the wrongness of it. It made Patton think of Logan, standing on the riverbank all those years ago, already resigned that Patton and Roman were going to abandon him to the Wild Hunt’s hounds.

Patton hadn’t done it then, and he wasn’t going to do it now.

Patton couldn’t even imagine what Virgil must be like at full strength, if the air roiling with energy and deadly, acid silence, making Patton feel like a snared fox, was him  _weak_. When they got to the gate, Virgil reached out and gripped it deliberately. Patton and all the fae winced at the faint sizzling sound, but Virgil didn’t even flinch. He opened the gate, stepped through, and somehow managed to still look the most imposing person present despite the fact that everyone else was on horseback.

He drew himself up, and Patton thought he might be about to say something but then on of the horses broke out of the crowd, to the front, and a ringing voice followed.

"Well I don’t know about all of you,” she said brightly, “But this particular prince does not look dead to me,

* * *

Dead?

” _Dead_?“ blurted Virgil, his carefully scripted threat flying out of his head entirely, "Who said I was dead?”

“The king,” responded the knight, and Virgil didn’t actually recognize her, “And we’ve obviously been deceived,”

“Perhaps he was mistaken,” said someone else.

“That’s even worse!” she snapped, “So pleased to find himself lord of the forest he doesn’t bother to check and make sure the witch actually killed him?”

“ _ **H**_ _ **e**_ _ **said**_   _ **WHAT**_?”

“That the witch poisoned you,” she said, “Or implied it, somehow. Forgive me, your highness, but my memories a little shoddy and I don’t remember the precise phrasing he used,”

“She would  _never_!”

“I see that,” said the knight gravely, and then she turned to the rest of them.

“So it seems our king is a charlatan,”

“You speak treason,” snapped someone.

“And is it not treason to usurp the throne and violate every law of Hospitality we have?”

“What does this have to do with Hospitality?” said someone incredulously.

The knight prodded her horse out of the way, leaving a line of sight between Virgil and the hunt once more.

“If the witch did not kill you, than what did she do in her life, your highness?” she asked, “If not a traitor and a deceiver, than what was she?”

“My best and truest friend,” said Virgil instantly, viciously, furious that his brother had slandered her name as well as tortured her soul in the time Virgil had been gone, “My sister in everything but blood,”

“And how has the false king repaid her?” said the knight, addressing the rest of the hunt once more, her voice loud and indignant, “In tears? In blood? In torture and imprisonment?”

“She’s only a mortal,” said someone dubiously.

“And  _we_  are not!” cried the knight, “We have laws! we have our word! Are you fae or are you a human who speaks in lies, who’s word means nothing?”

“Hold your tongue, Belladonna,”

“I will do no such thing!” she snapped, and she moved her horse further towards Virgil, until she was standing next to them, she cast a sunny smile over her shoulder at Logan and Patton. And then she drew her sword.

“ _I_  am not so bold as to draw weapons on the rightful lord of the forest,” she said lightly, “But I’d be perfectly willing to draw them on  _you_ ,”

A tense and brittle silence drew itself out, and Virgil was starting to get a little lightheaded from the effort of maintaining this level of an aura. If he slipped for a second they surely tear them all to shreds.

And then another horse broke the line. Belladonna tensed, raising the sword slightly, but the dark-haired knight – Virgil wracked his brain, Adrius? Adrastus? – wheeled around to face the hunt.

One by one the horses came forward, some of the knights even dismounting and kneeling. Weapons hit the ground. Virgil could feel the relief radiating off of Patton and Logan behind him.

There was only one knight left, looking amused and a little exasperated.

“If we do this,” he said lightly, “You  _do_  know we are all going to die?”

“And why would that be?” demanded Virgil.

“Our orders were to bring the people in this home back to the king in order to turn them over to the King’s abomination,” he said, “That’s is what is waiting at the end of this journey,”

Logan cleared his throat behind Virgil. A smattering of giggles spread through the knights, and Virgil didn’t have to fake the crackle of rage that split through the air. The giggling went instantly silent.

“We have observed that M- that the witch is no longer under the Serpent King’s control,”

“He called it right in front of us, before we left, changeling,” said the knight condescendingly. He hesitated a bit, “Though I will concede that it seemed much less disgusting than usual,”

“An understatement for sure,” said Belladonna dryly, “I’ve never seen that thing so docile. It’s certainly had  _something_  done to it,”

“Uh, that- that’d be me, actually,”

All eyes turned to Patton, startled. Many of the knights heads tilted in confusion. Virgil could relate – he’d been pretty dumbfounded the first time he heard Patton speak, too.

“Hello,” said Patton a little nervously, “Uh- nice to meet you,”

“Is  _that_  White’s godson?” said someone incredulously.

“No, he’s too old,” said someone immediately, “He can’t possibly already be that big,”

“He’s Sir Roman’s age, isn’t he and you know how big he is, idiot,”

At the mention of Roman – who Virgil had somehow managed to forget about in all this – Virgil’s gaze flew to the porch, scrutinizing. It would be easy for Night-Roman to incite the crowd to violence again.

But Roman was in the exact same position on the porch chair, still drinking tea, looking totally unconcerned with the state of affairs.

Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t adding up.

Night-Roman looked up then, like he’d just bothered to start paying attention to crowd again, and set his cup on the little table next to the chair. He trotted off the porch toward the hunt.

“Give me a horse,” he said imperiously.

A couple knights rolled their eyes, but one of the younger-looking ones hopped down immediately.

“And what do you think of this coup, Sir Roman?” said the last knight.

Night-Roman shrugged.

“What do I care what you do? I’m not your mother, or your babysitter,”

And then he prodded the horse into a sedate, almost lazy pace, headed into the forest.

The last knight shrugged.

“We await our orders,” he said, matter-of-fact.

They all looked at Virgil.

He had to admit, he  _definitely_  hadn’t missed this part.

“A horse,” he said flatly, “And for these two as well,”

“Um, actually,” said Logan quietly, poking Virgil gently, “Neither of us is capable of… operating a horse,”

Virgil snorted before he could help it, and Logan turned a little pink around the ears.

“I can take one of you,” said Belladonna, “My horse is strong enough,”

Virgil nodded.

Adrius dismounted, offering first Virgil his horse, and second Patton help getting onto the back. Belladonna merely reached over and down, looping her arm around Logan’s ribs and hauling him up behind her like he weighed nothing. Logan looked a little disoriented.

“Well, aren’t you all adorable,” mocked Night-Roman over his shoulder, He was nearly to the trees.

Virgil scowled at his back. He was up to something.

Virgil hoped they figured it out before it came back to bite them.

**Author's Note:**

> *vibrating* IT'S GOIN DOWN YALL im so EXCITED


End file.
